Could've Would've Can't
by Xynostaph
Summary: What happens when you've been hurt before, and can't take being hurt again? Do you stay alone forever? Or can someone rescue you? A two shot request
1. Chapter 1

**Authors comments:**

**This is a request by JewishLolita ((who has a sexy awesome screen name)) for an Alfred x Arthur ((USxUK)) oneshot, but it got kinda long, so I made two chapters, to kind of break it up.**

**So yay! My first two-shot! **

**:{D**

**Mustache smiles are sexier than regular smiles, just FYI.**

**Anywho, I still take requests, since I love trying to write different things, and if you want one, just ask, and ill be glad to try and write one for you! On with the story!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing...! /sob/**

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Arthur hated rain.

Well, actually, when he was sitting in his comfy chair, near the fire, with a cup of tea and a good book, he enjoyed the rain. But when he was standing at the window of the conference room, staring at the monsoon like rain that beat against the glass like it was trying to eat him?

Yeah, he hated the rain.

"Bloody hell..." He muttered, knowing the walk from the building to his hotel was going to murder him. That, or blow him back to England.

"What is wrong, Anglettere~?" France asked, skipping towards the annoyed British country. Arthur looked at the happy blond man and sighed, not in the mood to fight.

"The weather in America is so bloody extreme, like America himself." Arthur muttered. Francis nodded, a bemused smile on his stubbled face. But then he seemed to sober up slightly.

"Hey, Anglettere...May I speak with you in private for one moment?" Arthur raised an eyebrow at the Frenchman, eyeing him suspiciously. But the look on the country's face was serious, so Arthur nodded, wondering what was up with France all of a sudden.

"You are...close to America, oui?" France began, speaking the words slowly, trying to avoid England becoming nervous by inner meanings that were not there.

"Errr...I suppose?" England answered, not sure as to where this was going. "I mean...we aren't arguing as much, and I suppose we have been hanging out together outside of meetings more often."

France let out a breath as he scratched the top of his blond head, not sure how to phrase his next question. So he just said it as bluntly as he could.

"Do you have feelings for him?"

"W-wha...? What-"

"Do not take it the wrong way, Anglettere-" France began, putting up his hands defensively. "I do not mean to make assumptions. I just wish to know what your...relationship is with him."

England stared at the slightly older nation, bewildered as to what the man was trying to get out of him. Was he trying to set him up for a prank? It didn't seem like the usual prank, since France was being completely serious, and a bit hesitant.

And France was never hesitant.

"Ummm..." England tried to think of his relationship with America. They were friends, right? England couldn't really tell with Alfred. The guy was either being completely obnoxious about super heroes, or trying to bug Arthur into hanging out with him. So maybe acquaintances? But the times when Alfred wasn't being a complete self-centered self-loving idiot goofball, they had really enjoyed themselves, just hanging out and talking, or just enjoying the silence of the area around them.

"I suppose...we are close friends? I don't know...Why?"

It was Francis' turn to look uncomfortable, shifting from one leg to the other.

"How do I say this...uhmm..." He paused, before sighing loudly, his hands now resting on his hips.

"I don't want you getting to close to America, Arthur." Francis stated, his voice more worried than demanding.

"What do you mean, you bloody frog? It's none of your business what I do-"

France gripped England's arm, preventing the British man to run away, or more importantly, hit France. "I didn't mean it like that, Arthur."

England stared in bewilderment at the blonde man in front of him, who's face seemed a mixture of pain and sorrow.

"I just meant...I mean, you and me, we are like brothers, oui? We do not always get along, well, we rarely get along. But...we are still brothers. And I don't want to see you get hurt again by him."

The comment made Arthur flinch, surprised by the earnest statement the usually pervy country would never say.

"When you were raising him, you seemed so happy, so up in the clouds. I was envious of how happy you were, Anglettere. But...When he fought you for independence...You...you fell. I'm sure America didn't see the worst of it, but I did. It was hard. To see you, my brother, look like you were a walking corpse in your own land. You didn't eat, you didn't sleep. You would just sit in your room for days, sobbing. It broke my heart. But afterwords, you seem to slowly get better, so I would always hit on you to distract you. It seemed to work. And then when you worked together with America and everyone, it was as if you were ok. And now, now, you seem so great, so happy. I..." He paused, losing his foice as a silent sob stopped him from talking.

" I don't want to see that happen again if you get any closer to him. He loves being independent, oui? If you get to close, he'll push you away. I...I-I don't think you could handle that again...! Other countries have noticed as well...What if they try to take advantage of your relationship they think you have? What if you get hurt...?" France said, choking up. England was dumb founded, and didn't know how to act. France was worried? About HIM? Aren't they mortal enemies? England felt his heart tighten, finding it hard to fight off the feelings he felt. Sorrow, guilt, confusion, pride. Pride? England was surprised at how happy he felt, knowing somebody cared for him. Even if it was France.

"I...I know..." England whispered, his arm slipping from France's grip. It was true that England might possibly have feelings for the rambuncious country, but he knew to stay away. He would think about all the pros and cons, over and over again. Not that he would mind being with the guy, seriously. But...

"I won't France...I know what would happen..."

France looked embarrassed and sorry for what he brought up, but England smiled, giving him a grin that spoke volumes of sadness and lost hope.

"Thanks for worrying about me, Francis...But don't think we're going to be buddy buddy from now on!"

"Oh, Anglettere, you know I would have it no other way." France grinned, happy his brother-rival was ok. After a few minutes of mindless chatter, France excused himself, leaving to go catch a flight back to his own country. England watched him go, waving half-heartedly as the blonde man left via taxi.

_"I don't want to see that happen again if you get any closer to him. He loves being independent, oui? If you get to close, he'll push you away. I...I-I don't think you could handle that again...!"_  
France's words rang in Arthur's head, as he packed his own bag slowly. By now, he was sure he was the only one in the large conference building. By now, the weather had temporarily let up, making it a prime time to escape.

But...

He didn't want to leave.

He felt like if he walked outside, he might crumple.

Arthur realized how close he had become to Alfred over the years. They were talking every day via something; whether it be phone, email, text, or letters. He didn't think anything of it until now, but...

They were really close.

Too close.

England had always been proud of how independent he was. Especially after the fight between him and America. But he was starting to grow attached once more to the younger country. It was heart breaking. He was so close. He was feeling so much for Alfred. But he knew what would happen. All these years he knew what would happen to him if he tried to become close to America again.

But he did it anyway.

"Bloody HELL!" He yelled, throwing his bag down. He placed his hand on his forehead, forcing himself to breath evenly, trying to calm himself down. He ignored his own warnings! That little warning light in the back of his head had been going off for so long, yet he had blocked it out, thinking that he wouldn't have to worry about putting too much emotion into his time with Alfred.

"This sucks..."

"What does?"

Arthur froze, praying to everything and everyone that it wasn't-

"Alfred."

"Yo!" The tall brown haired country grinned, flicking a piece sign as his blue eyes went from Arthur to the bag on the floor. He bent down and picked it up, holding it out for the shorter country. "If it sucks, just pick it up, dude. Not that hard!" He joked. Arthur took the bag quickly, looking at the country with confusion.

"What are you doing here, Alfred? You ran out of here first. Forget something?"

Alfred nodded, pointing to the podium, where a box of half-eaten fries lay cold. Arthur sweat dropped, staring in disbelief at America.

"You're not serious, are you?"

Alfred walked over and picked up the box, munching on the cold fries happily. "Why would I waste them? It's not like they're dirty or nuthin'..." Alfred mumbled, stuffing his face with more fries.

"Bloody...Look! How can you shove that stuff into your mouth! That's disgusting!"Arthur chided, waving his finger at Alfred. Alfred just shrugged and smiled, finishing the fries.

"What are you doing here so late, England? Are you staying here for the night?"

"N-no! Are you really that stupid? I was just waiting for the rain to let up."

"Alone? That's no fun. You could've told me, I would have hung out with you!" Alfred stated happily, grinning like a little kid. Arthur blushed slightly and turned his head, as if in dissaproval.

"It was fine! France was here, so I wasn't alone."

"France? Don't you hate each other?"

"Sometimes we can have civilized discussions, you twit." Arthur said, as he began walking out of the room. Alfred followed, now curious.

"Whatcha talk about?"

"Nothing that concerns you." Arthur stated, in a way that told America that he wouldn't be getting any more information if he tried to pry.

"Ah, secret stuff. Tha's cool."

Arthur paused at the main doorway, looking at his cellphone. Ok, still had plenty of time to get to the hotel before dark.

"So wanna come over? I got some new movies that are way too scary to watch by myself! We could get some popcorn too-"

"Sorry, i'm tired. I'm just going to go to my hotel room and sleep."

"Oh, ok. Well, don't forget that tomorrow you promised to go see the new movie coming out in theaters!" Alfred reminded, excited for the movie premier of Teenage werewolves of Crytal forest part 3: The howling town of ghosts.

"About that, Alfred..." Arthur began, keeping his eyes on the sky outside, in case it began to rain again. "I'm afraid I won't be able to go."

"What~?" Alfred whined, pouting angrily at the British country. "Why not? We've been planning this for months!"

"Correction, _you_ have been planning it for months. And I have some work to do that's due soon, and I'm way behind." Arthur said simply, shrugging it off as he opened the large front door. Arthur frowned at the country, worry now in his voice.

"Is something wrong, Arthur?"

Arthur said nothing, but opened the door more.

"Did I do something wrong?" Alfred asked, making Arthur's eyes widen slightly, and for just a moment, before his face became neutral once more.

"No." He began, closing the door behind him. "You didn't do anything wrong."

And then Alfred was alone in the large and empty conference building, as thunder clapped miles away, signaling the beginning of the next storm,

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**Author's end notes:**

**Part 1, done! Part two will be done after I work on a ****request from EmeraldGreen4Life! So stay tuned~! **

**:D  
(My mustache smile shaved!)**

**Reviews make me more inspired to work, so the more reviews i get, the sooner the second, and final, chapter will be published! /wink wink nudge nudge/**


	2. Chapter 2

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Author's notes:

**this took way longer than it should have. But it's done now, so that's that! **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing~!**

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Alfred was in no mood for hamburgers after he finally got back home.

He was soaked, depressed, hungry, and confused. But he didn't have the will to look at food right now.

All because England had to be a jerk and act all moody! Didn't he realize what Alfred had to go through to get the tickets for the midnight viewing of Teenage werewolves of Crystal forest part 3: The howling town of ghosts. It just wasn't fair!

Alfred ripped off his soaked jacket and let it fall to the floor. He would get it later, maybe, if he needed to. His hands instinctively went for his hair, his fingers coming through it and pushing it out of his face. He had nothing to do at all! Which meant there was nothing to distract him from being upset at England. What was his problem anyway? He was perfectly fine during the meeting, and even when the meeting was over. But from the time he left to the time he had returned for the food, Arthur had become depressed about something, and had pushed Alfred away, metaphorically speaking.

What had happened when he was gone? Alfred walked into his large bedroom and began to change into a more comfortable outfit consisting of jeans, t-shirt, and a sweatshirt. He tried to rethink of why the older nation had acted so weird. Then, he recalled part of the conversation he had with Iggy before the British man had walked out into the rain.

_"What are you doing here so late, England? Are you staying here for the night?"_

_"N-no! Are you really that stupid? I was just waiting for the rain to let up."_

_"Alone? That's no fun. You could've told me, I would have hung out with you!" _

_"It was fine! France was here, so I wasn't alone."_

_"France? Don't you hate each other?"_

_"Sometimes we can have civilized discussions, you twit." _

_"Whatcha talk about?"_

_"Nothing that concerns you." _

_"Ah, secret stuff. Tha's cool."_

France!

Before he could catch up with his mind, his body had grabbed his cellphone and dialed the perverted nation's number.

"Oui~? What can I do for you, America~?" The man's voice cooed, making Alfred make a slightly disgusted face. No, focus, Alfred. Don't take no for an answer!

"What did you say to Arthur?"

"What do you mean~?" Was the reply that came from the small blue telephone. Alfred's empty hand clenched, as his blue eyes narrow at the window.

"What did you tell Arthur to make him so upset? The guy just cancelled basically all of our plans together, dude! And being the Hero that I am, I needed to know what you did to him to make him cancel our-" He paused. What was it? Just hanging out? Maybe. But Alfredfelt way to happy and excited whenever him and Arthur made plans. Honestly, he would have gladly called it a date, but he doubted Arthur felt the same about their little excursions. Maybe he was just a nuisance to his former caretaker.

"What did he cancel?"

Francis' voice brought him out of his thoughts, and he decided to just say it.

"To cancel our date! It was totally not awesome!"

"Ahh...So you think you are allowed to do that?"

"Do what?"

"Mess with him like that. You know, I thought you would have noticed by now and backed off, but now I see your American ways stop you from seeing it. How unfortunate~"

Alfred blanked out for a moment, not at all understanding what the Frenchman was talking about. "What do you mean? I don't mess with him at all! He always agrees to go out with me! I don't force him!"

"But, you do, mon chere. Unintentionally, I guess, but you do."

"Huh?"

Francis was quiet for a moment, the crackling of the phone the only thing Alfred could hear. Alfred licked his lips, his throat going dry as fear seemed to creep into the edges of his thoughts.

"Think about it, America. What do you think happened after you won your independence?"

"Well, I became a nation, and after that, i dunno, became a super power?"

"And how was your relationship with Anglettere?"

"Errr...After he recognized me as a country, everything was cool."

"And that is where you are wrong."

"Huh?"

Alfred was caught off guard by the seriousness in Francis' voice. He didn't even know france could be serious.

"You think everything was sunshine and rainbows, oui?"

"Well-"

"Let me finish. While you were off in Lala land, thinking everything was rainbows and butterflies, I was the one seeing Arthur crumble. The way he would stare for hours at the ocean, crying silently to himself when he thought no one was around. The way he would just sit silently, his eyes dull and as lifeless as dolls. You had no idea what your independence did to him. He was always alone, before you came along. He always prided himself on his independence. But when you came, he became so happy, honestly, I had never seen Anglettere that joyous. He thought he had a friend, a companion. But after you split from him, his trust in people, and countries, just...dissapeared. You ruined him."

Alfred felt nothing. His heart felt like it had stopped and broke, the pieces sharp and piercing at his innermost soul. Alfred had no idea...

No.

That was a lie.

He did know. He had known for years, what he had done to Arthur. He just pushed it aside, and pretended he didn't notice. Alfred had hoped that he could make it up to the nation, and tried to be close again. It took a long time, but it had seemed to work, and they had slowly become friends. Alfred had hoped to be closer, but didn't want to rush it, in case the older nation didn't feel the same way.

Alfred didn't want to ruin their relationship again.

"Francis...?"

"Oui, America?" The mans voice asked, not angry or anything else, just a simple asking of a question. Alfred closed his eyes, trying to get his voice back to full strength.

"What's the reason Arthur cancelled on me? What did you talk about?"

He heard france shuffle, thinking whether or not to answer. Alfred heard him mutter some french softly, but didn't understand it at all. He didn't care at the moment.

"France?"

"He doesn't want you to push him away again. He can't handle another rejection from you."

"Is that all?" Alfred said, surprised by the own neutrality in his voice.

"Oui."

"Ok, thanks."

"America?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you going to go to him?"

Alfred didn't even miss a beat as he stared at the nearby airport, his sapphire eyes shining with fiery determination.

"Damn straight."

"His spare key is under the tulip planter by the back door, if he doesn't let you in, Mon chere."

"Thanks."

Alfred closed the phone and shoved it into his pant pocket, grabbing his wallet and a new coat, not bothering to pack anything else. If he pulled the correct strings, he could be there by morning.

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Francis leaned back in his chair, his phone was still in his hands, which rested on his lap. So, America was going to put up a fight?

"Good."

Francis allowed himself to smirk, his blue eyes closing contently as he leaned back.

"Maybe they can make it. My fingers are crossed, Mon cheres."

Who knew? Maybe they would.

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Alfred stared at the large three story cottage before him, his eyes looking for any signs of life. A few lights were on, and it was almost eight, so he was sure Arthur was up. Arthur was always getting up early, to have morning tea and read the paper before getting on with his day. Alfred's legs lead him to the front door, his hand reaching for the doorbell.

Ding Dong.

The ringing echoed into the house, and Alfred's head, as silence swallowed up the sounds. After a few moments, Alfred rang it once more, but no response. He knocked, loudly, wondering if this was on purpose.

Damn.

"Arthur?" Alfred called, banging on the door once more, becoming slightly agitated. He heard shuffling on the other side of the door, which meant someone was there. And Alfred knew Arthur didn't have any help living with him, so that left one option.

Arthur was avoiding him.

"Arthur! C'mon, open the door, dude!" Alfred yelled, trying to open the door. Of course it was locked.

"...W-"

Alfred barely caught the voice, since it was barely above a whisper.

"Arthur? Hey, let me in, ok?"

"What do you want?"

Alfred paused, not understanding why the older nation wouldn't let him in.

"I wanted to talk to you, to make sure you were ok, you know? You left all weird yesterday, so what kind of friend would I be if I didn't come and check on ya?" Alfred said, smiling sadly at the oak door. He knew Arthur was on the other side.

So close, so far.

"So that's what we are?"

"Huh?"

Arthur's voice was soft, but he knew Arthur talked like that when he was sad.

"Are we friends? You and I?"

Alfred stared at the door in shock. His hand went to the handle slowly once more, getting ready to open it as soon as it was unlocked.

"O-of course, Arthur! Why wouldn't we be?"

_Cause I want to be more... _Alfred thought to himself, though he shook that idea away, not wanting to go into a full inner conversation at the moment.

"Ah..." Was the only reply given.

"Ah? Dude, just open the door."

"I'm fine, you can go away now. No need to worry about me, Alfred."

_Yes there is. I love you. But you don't love me._

Alfred tried the door again, hoping the lock would give, but it didn't. Damn sturdy thing.

"No, I can't. You won't let me in, so there's a problem! Just open the door, Arthur!" Alfred said, slightly annoyed by the door and how sturdy it was.

"It's fine,_ friend_. I don't need any assistance. I never have."

"Bullshit!" Alfred cried, before he could stop himself. He heard Arthur breath in sharply, just as surprised by the outburst. "You're acting like you're perfectly fine! But your not! You sound like shit, you won't open the door, and I just want to make sure your ok! Damnit, Arthur! Just...open the door!"

"No!"

The harshness of the yell through Alfred off for a moment, looking in shock at the door.

"I don't need you to act like you care, ok? I'm perfectly fuckin' fine, you bloody yankee! Go back to your usual routine of McDonalds and movies, and just...just leave me alone! I don't want to see you right now!"

"Why?"

"Why?" Arthur repeated, as if disgusted at Alfred's inability to know already. "I'll tell you why- Because I said so!"

"Is it because of France?"

Arthur became silent, as if caught off guard at the fact that Alfred might actually know.

"I assure you, I don't know what you mean..." The neutral sarcasm in Arthur's voice was like a knife slowly digging into Alfred's arm, and it was making him pretty pissed.

"You stupid prideful bastard! All those times we hung out, did stuff together, just talked! You never once said a fucking word on how you really felt...I...I thought we were getting closer again...! I thought you were ok...! Why didn't you tell me what I did to you...? Why didn't you hit me, yell at me, tell me to fuck off like you do when it's trivial things!"

"Because I didn't want to lose you again, you stupid arse!"

Alfred leaned his head against the door, eyes wide in shock.

Damnit Arthur.

Alfred breathed in sharply and let go of the handle.

Plan B.

* * *

Arthur glared at the door with his emerald green eyes, tears dripping down his cheecks and onto the carpet below, his whole body shaking at how awful he felt. His chest clenched tightly as he tried to form words in his mouth, but nothing came. He heard nothing from the other side, which worried him.

Did Alfred run away?

Did Arthur push too far, and was left alone once again?

He knew it.

"Bloody hell, Alfred...!" He whispered, looking through the little window next to the door. The porch was empty, no Alfred in sight.

Damn it.

Damn it.

DAMN IT!

Arthur let his fists punch the door, the wood making his knuckled scratched, and in a few places, lightly bleed from shallow cuts.

"Not again...!" He whimpered, his legs giving out from underhim, allowing him to collapse onto the floor.

Again.

He left again. He left when Arthur was the most vulnerable. Why? Why was Alfred so set on being completely independent? Was being in a relationship really that bad? Maybe he was fine with being in a relationship.

Just one not with him in it.

Arthur felt new tears spill out, making him sniffle and rub his eyes with his sleeve.

Stupid Alfred.

Stupid America.

No...

No, not stupid America.

Stupid Arthur.

Stupid England.

He was the one that should have known better.

Stupid hope.

"I'm so stupid..." Arthur whispered, curling himself into a ball by the door.

"No, your not." He heard, and felt two arms wrap around him gently, in some kind of relaxing embrace. Arthur didn't look up. He didn't need to. He knew who it was.

"What the bloody hell are you doing in my house, Alfred?"

He heard Alfred chuckle, still holding Arthur in a hug.

"Francis told me about the spare key by the back door."

"Bloody frog...I'll get him later."

"Arthur..."

"What do you want? I get it, you like your independence. Sorry for hoping-"

"Hoping for what?" Alfred asked, his interest piqued. Could he posibly want more, like him? Alfred didn't get his hopes up, but still felt excited none the less.

"Nothing, nevermind. Now get out of my house."

Alfred sighed. Stubborn idiot.

"Arthur..."

"Get out."

"Not until you look at me and tell me what you were saying."

"No."

"Then it looks like i'm staying."

"Bloody yankee."

"Stubborn Brit."

"Hey! I am not stubborn!" Arthur cried, looking up at Alfred. Green met blue for one instant, before Arthur looked away.

Too late.

Alfred saw the pain and the tears, and couldn't help himself.

"You idiot, Arthur!" He growled, before using his hands to grab the Britishman's face, forcing it to face him once again. Arthur squeeked in surprise as Alfred's lips crashed into his own. Arthur tried to pull away at first, but Alfred's grip would not loosen it's hold, and Arthur soon found himself leaning into the kiss, his mouth moving automatically with Alfred's, hungry and needy. But Arthur soon regained control, pushing away once more, and actually removing his lips from Alfred's.

"B-b-bloody hell, Alfred! What the fuck do you think...Why did you...That was...What were you bloody thinking..."

Arthur couldn't complete a single sentence, unable to get over the emotions that shone in the American's eyes. Arthur choked up, his face burning red in embarrassment. He must look like such a mess right now.

"Stupid f-fool...Your independence means everything to you...I didn't want to get to close...you would just push me away again..." Arthur mumbled, his eyes glaring at Alfred. "I...I don't want you to leave me again...! I can't handle it...! I could barely survive the first time...! I thought, if we got closer, you would leave again...But...I also hoped we could...could..."

"I _want_ to be close to you, Arthur. I _want_ to be closer. You have to trust me..." Alfred said, his forehead against Arthur's. "Damn it, I love you, you stubborn ass."

Arhur scoffed, a weak smile spreading across his own face. "Relationships mean commitment, you git. You won't have as much freedom, you know."

It was Alfred's turn to smile. "Maybe. Or maybe the freedom comes in the relationship."

"What freedom?"

"The freedom to openly love you."

"Bloody git...Fine...I l-love you too...Happy?" Arthur growled, his eyes closed in frustration and embarrassment.

"Perfectly~"

And then Alfred's lips found Arthur's once more, this time the Britishman put up no resistance, leaning in as far as he could into the kiss. Alfred pulled back slightly, in need of air.

"So, Arthur...?"

"Hmm...?"

"Wanna go see that movie with me now?"

Arthur couldn't help but grin in an annoyed fashion at his new lover. "God, really?"

"Yup! Don't want the tickets to go to waste!"

Arthur sighed, his head resting on Alfred's shoulder.

"Fine, but then we go out to a nice dinner."

"I can do that!"

"No McDonalds or fast food."

"...Shit."

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**Author's end notes:**

**I did it! It sucks but i did it! I can't even remember what i wrote, so there! Sorry if it sounds weird~!**

**Now i have to empty the dishwasher before mum and dad arrive hone from work! Yaaaaay~ /shot/**

**Anyway, I love reviews, so please review, even if its to point out errors or mispellings!**

**:D**

**And as always, if you have a request you would like me to try, then by all means ask, and Ill see if i can write it for you~!**


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